


What's a Princess?

by justgotowisharder



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Louis, Crossdressing, Cuddles, Feminine Harry, Fluff, Harry likes lipstick, Hurt Louis, Insecure Harry, Kisses, M/M, bc harry doesn't talk to him, louis loves harry so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1802296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justgotowisharder/pseuds/justgotowisharder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry shouldn't like to wear tutus, Louis should have known it and that shouldn't have been a problem between them. None of this is actually happening.</p><p>(or Harry is scared to talk with Louis about his feminine side)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's a Princess?

**Author's Note:**

> I know people is pretty much obsessed with louis in lace, panties and girly stuff YET I think harry's the princess. Whenever I see the boy, my mind screams "princess"
> 
> This is my very first fic based on real life and not an AU (finally made it!). Hope you like it :) [ find me on tumblr ](ijustgotowisharder.tumblr.com) xxx *yes, girly!harry is my weak point*
> 
> \- Lottie x
> 
>  
> 
> [ [ Read this story in Russian here ] ](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3427360)  
> 

_Louis knows it_. He doesn’t need confirmation, pictures or any kind of explanation, he doesn’t need to see it; _he just knows it._

It’s a small hunch he has; a hunch that Harry is hiding something. Every time he looks into Harry’s eyes his heart clenches because _he knows it._

It happens once in a while, Harry wears lipstick and eyeliner inside their house as if was something really normal for him. It happens and Louis always pretends he doesn't notice, he acts as if he didn't know anything about it, but the truth is— _He knows._  

The problem is simple: he doesn't know how to talk about it.

It happens once in a while, and it was fine until the day Louis starts feeling as if he was breaking a private and secret spot in Harry's world. He doesn't judge, God he could never judge the boy he loves the most; but if Harry hasn't said anything about it, maybe it means he doesn't want Louis to know. But Louis knows, it feels as if he was sneaking inside Harry's secret is something bad.

 _It's wrong_.

They never talked about it, honestly. Harry never really tried to, and Louis knows that it’s something really, _really_ personal about his boyfriend and he doesn’t want to force him to talk about it. 

Yet Louis is human, and he loves Harry, and he can't stand it.

Louis finds his boyfriend fast asleep on the couch, curled up into a ball, probably freezing cold. Louis has arrived at home after a long lads night with Stand and some old friend, and his heart melts at the view of his fiance sleeping like a baby, trying to fit his lanky and long body into the small couch.

He kneels down at his side as his fingers caress Harry’s hair delicately. His hair, seems like it's been ages since his hair was just a crazy mop of curls. Now it's long, silky and slightly curly hair, usually covered with one of those hats Harry finds fashionable and Louis doesn’t understand why; but he respects anyway because he honestly thinks Harry looks pretty and fuckable with every single thing he chooses to wear.

Harry purrs in his sleeps as he curls into a smaller boy, snuggling against the couch, maybe trying to find any source of warmth for his cold body.

"My little princess," Louis says softly, and it still amazes him how giddily and warm Harry makes him feel. After all this time, the years, the struggles, the fights and— _everything_ , he is still so in love with his boy.

Louis never really liked to be cheesy, he actually hates to be cliched and corny, but Harry… _Harry makes him a completely different man._ He loves those little things, those silent, sweet things they share daily.

He grabs the blanket from the floor and stands up, a little box falling from it.

Louis’ heart skips a bit a little when he reaches down to pick it up: _it's lipstick_. His tiny hands are shaking as he opens the box, finding a red lipstick inside.

It feels bad. _Wrong_. He feels as if he was betraying Harry, because it is something so personal, something for him and only for him. Louis is invading his personal little secret.

Yet by the other hand, he can't help being a little upset because Harry doesn’t trust him enough to tell him that he likes… Girls' stuff. _Why?_   Doesn’t he trust Louis? Does he think Louis will break up with him for being a bit girly?

Louis approaches his boy, resting his hand on his shoulder as gentle as he can. He is about to wake Harry up when a sudden hesitation fills his mind. What if—?

No, it's better if he doesn't do it.

Maybe act as if he hasn't known anything about Harry’s stuff is the best choice Louis has. It doesn't mean it feels less like at stitch stabbed into his chest, anyway.

He sighs noisily and rests his head on the edge of the couch, next to Harry, staring at the gorgeous creature that is his better half. He has to wake him up, they have a dinner to attend to, but Harry looks so, so pretty like this.

"Babe," Louis whispers, sliding his fingertips by the soft skin of his arms until he reaches his hand. "Babe, sleepy head, wake up."

Harry mutters some nonsense and turns his head to the other side, burying it in the pillow. Louis chuckles; he knows this is just a normal reaction from a sleepy and tired Harry who doesn’t want to wake up.

"Pumpkin, come on."

"Don’t want to," Harry mutters under his breath. He links their fingers and squeezes Louis’ hand. "Spoon me."

"Harry," Louis speaks softly, kissing the back of Harry’s head. "I can’t spoon you. You’re gigantic."

"Don’t mind," Harry insists and he finally rolls on the couch to look at Louis. His pretty eyes are drowsy and half of his face has the lines of the pillow he had been sleeping on. "You're my big spoon."

Louis chuckles fondly. Sometimes he forgets that Harry is an actual little princess. Princesses need to be cared, they need to feel loved. Harry is always giving love to everybody, but he also needs to feel love from the others towards him. That’s Louis’ job: give him love.

"You’re such a sap," his boyfriend says, rolling his eyes. He clings into Harry and quickly adjust his body against his, wrapping Harry’s lanky body with his arms from behind, putting soft kisses on the back of his neck. "Hi."

“Hi, Lou,” Harry whispers softly, taking Louis’ hands with his. "I love you."

"Love you too," he replies. Something burns inside his pocket, and the sight of the little box appears on Louis' mind.

Harry doesn’t seem to suspect anything about it, but Louis is suddenly paranoid. He can't help it. What if his boyfriend knows? God, he’ll blame him for breaking his privacy.

It doesn't make sense at all, because Harry has never wanted privacy with Louis before. Why is he hiding something so important?

"Baby," Louis speaks, hesitant, and Harry only replies with a sleepy ' _huum_.' "Baby, do you… like… Do you want more privacy?"

The question surprises Harry more than Louis thought it would. He turns around as quick as he can, facing Louis with puppy eyes and a furrowed brow.

"What?" He asks, bewildered. "Privacy? Louis, really?" he asks, frowning.

Louis licks his lips nervously, trying to find the right words to speak, and then nods shyly with the head. As much as he tries to hide it, he’s upset and Harry notices it.

"My world is yours, Lou," he insists, still confused. "Why are you asking me this?"

"I don’t know," Louis lies, quite badly if he has to be honest. "Maybe you wanted to… have… privacy. I don't know, your little moment."

Harry shakes his head energetically and leans into press a kiss to Louis' lips. His hand skims by Louis’s spine, slowly, sweetly. Louis gets chills, sighing into his boy’s mouth as they kiss, loosing themselves in their tender touches and pure love.

"My little moments are yours too, Lou," he gasps when he breaks the kiss. He's looking right into his soul, Louis thinks, and he loves him so, so much. Why can't Harry be open about his feminine side, he doesn't know it yet.

Louis wants to talk about it so much. To ask Harry in the face why he hides his girly side to him; why he isn't completely free... But he can’t, he fucking can’t because he doesn't want to upset his boyfriend.

Maybe he has to try something different. He has to encourage Harry to be the princess he wants to be.

 

 

♡

 

 

Louis _becomes overprotective_. It's unconscious, he doesn't want to do it, but it's stronger than him. He has to protect his Harry.

"Can you stop snogging on my couch, lads?"

Zayn still gets annoyed when Harry and Louis cuddle together on the couch, being unnecessary close and one all over the other, sharing soft and silent kisses.

They don't snog, not anymore, because they think the lads deserve to have a free-snogging time and it's a bit frustrating to have a couple of teenagers exchanging saliva while the other guys pretend to hold a conversation.

Either way, even soft kisses are snogging for Zayn. And Louis won't stop kissing Harry, not for Zayn, not for anyone. He needs to kiss Harry at least once in a while, just to have the reassurance that he's still there and still loves him.

"We aren't snogging," Harry says idly, trying to grab a strawberry, but Louis, who's sitting on his lap, doesn't let him move.

"Here, love," Louis says quickly, taking the strawberries bowl and giving it to Harry.

"Oi, I don't gotcha," Niall says, his mouth full of French fries. "Pizza and fries, and you eat berries instead?"

Harry chews a special big strawberry and the juice wets his lips and turns them reddish. It reminds Louis of the lipstick, and suddenly he loses his mind in the images that his boy's lips give him, imagining him with eyeliner and red lipstick.

He feels his crotch tightening and suddenly he needs air. Fucking pretty Harry.

It's weird. Louis isn't really fond of cross-dressing, he's fine with the people who like it and he thinks it's acceptable; but he never thought about it like something he would do. He  won't do it and he couldn't expect Harry to do it, but recently...

It's different, though. It isn't exactly that Harry wants to dress like a girl or he wants to be a girl, he's just a boy with a girly side. There are those little things that Harry likes about girls, not the whole picture.

"TOMLINSON!"

Zayn's yells make Louis come back to earth. He turns to his mate, Liam and Niall start laughing out loud. 

"Fucking idiots," Louis mutters, pissed off. His boyfriend kisses him kindly on the shoulder, just because he can.

"What were you thinking, Lou?" Harry asks, curious.

"Nothing, sunshine," he lies and quickly tries to catch Zayn's attention. "Stop laughing."

"I can't believe you still look at Harry like that," Liam says sincerely and Zayn exaggerates Louis's fond stare, which makes Harry chuckle and Louis get angry.

"My fucking problem. I can't believe you still call your girl 'sweet pea'."

"Touché!" Niall exclaims.

"Fuck off," Zayn reacts, crooking an eyebrow.

"Sometimes he calls her beautiful princess," Liam points out and Niall cracks into laughter again. Zayn rolls his eyes a mutters something for only him to hear.

"At least I got my own princess," he snaps back cleverly, raising eyebrows.

"Hey," Louis calls out. "I have my princess, too," he says, taking Harry's hand.

The declaration is followed by an unexpected moment of awkwardness. Liam glances at Harry, who's incredibly motionless under Louis, and then at the older boy. Zayn licks his lips nervously; the tension is about to explode when Niall starts laughing and everybody follows, laughing too.

"I'm- I’m not. Not- a princess," Harry stutters shyly, and Louis finds cute the way that boy, with his insanely raspy and manly voice, says the word ' _princess_ '. "I'm a man."

"Says the boy who likes to paint his nails," Niall jokes and it hits Louis more than what it hits Harry.

The younger pretends to laugh, finding the comment funny, and makes up a stupid excuse about Lou, yet Louis doesn't even smile. Because there are no excuses.

It is what Harry is.

It's his real him.

 

 

♡

 

 

Louis _wonders_. Oh, how much he wonders, he starts wondering how far it can go. How much Harry enjoys his secret.

He wants so hard to try it out loud, to make something, but in some way, it makes him feel like he's betraying Harry.

It happens some days that they shower together and nothing sexual happens. They are just like that, a happy couple glad of being together and wanting to feel their love in a deeper level. They wash each other bodies, putting kisses here and there, but not trying to do anything else.

Harry glows like a firefly and Louis wonders why can’t he be completely open about himself. Harry has never hid anything from him. Louis neither, he talks to Harry even about those shittiest things about his personality.

The way to their room is a combination of sweet words and soft kisses, Harry trying to carry Louis in bridal style, but the older boy refuses do it. They fight naively until they collapse in bed, while Harry keeps insisting on taking Louis in his arms.

"You aren't any less manly for being carried, Lou," Harry teases, caressing Louis's chest tattoos with the tip of his finger.

"I know," Louis answers.

Louis shifts closer to Harry, kissing all along his arms, in every single tattoo. His boyfriend turns to him and cups his face in his big hands, getting closer to him.

"Sir, what are you doing kissing my tattoos?"

"They’re for me, twat. I have all the damn right to kiss them," Louis whispers, fixing Harry’s messy and long hair. "Love you," he says, and they fall silent. Harry turns off the lights, the silence and peacefulness of the night finally fill the room.

Time goes by until Harry whispers on his boy's ear: "Louis. Lou!"

Harry is spooning Louis, cling into him like a koala, legs entangled and his fucking crotch pressing against Louis' ass. They're supposed to be trying to sleep but, honestly, Louis is more needy than sleepy.

"Tell me, sunshine," he mutters and Harry shifts closer (if that's even possible) and Louis wonders if the fucker is teasing him on purpose.

"Do you think… Do you think I'm... fit?"

Louis turns around violently when he listens to that question. Their legs are tangled, so it causes a mess with the sheets that Harry quickly puts in order. Those little domestic things are Louis's favorite.

"Harry, we are engaged. We have been together four years. I have been fucking the shit out of you in every bed we slept. Are you really asking me this?"

"’M sorry," Harry says, ashamed. "But sometimes… I feel like I'm not pretty enough," he explains and Louis thinks he doesn't mean to say ' _pretty_ ' out loud, but _oh_ , he has done it. "I mean, fit."

"You are incredibly fit," Louis assures, kissing the tip of Harry's nose, "and you are incredibly pretty, too. Wait."

He slides by the bed and opens his nightstand drawer, looking for one special item. It belongs to Lux, once she forgot it in their flat and Harry kept it on the nightstand just because.

Finally, Louis finds it: a small glittering crown. He turns around, facing Harry, and places the little crown on Harry's head. The younger boy follows his movements with his eyes wide open, yet when Louis finally puts the crown on him, he can't hide the smile that cracks his face.

God, even his dimples are there.

"There you have it," Louis mutters, melted by the sweetness of his boy. "You're officially pretty."

"Don’t," Harry stutters, trying to take off the crown. In a crazy shift of mood, Harry is now grumpy. He looks uncomfortable and Louis doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like to see his Harry ashamed of… himself. It feels like a stab in his heart. Harry can’t be ashamed of being the perfect human being he is. "I- just leave it, Lou."

"I insist, darling," Louis insists, trying to sound affectionate. "Please?" He pouts to Harry while his boyfriend stares at him, amusement written all over the face.

"What's gotten into you, Tomlinson? I love you," Harry whispers and kisses Louis, pulling him closer, and there's his fucking crotch again, touching Louis'.

Honestly, Louis has been getting pretty hard with the thought of Harry wearing girly details, and it just makes him as terrified as horny.

"I need you," Louis gasps, catching Harry's lower lip with his teeth, biting it softly, playfully.

"Horny," Harry teases and pushes his crotch against Louis's.

Yes, _yes_ , that is what Louis need, Harry's dick rubbing against his. Yes, he needs Harry to breathe louder and make little filthy sounds.

"Want you," Louis moans in need. Harry chuckles, mouth against mouth; and Louis breaks the kiss to fix the crown on Harry’s head.

Fucking him with that little crown seems such a pretty great idea.

Harry smiles and approaches to him one more time to suck his bottom lip and kiss him harder. He doesn’t wait anymore, as he's quickly kissing all along Louis's neck, sucking and making bruises on his soft skin. Louis closes his eyes, enjoying the wet sensation of Harry's mouth against his burning skin.

"What do you need? My mouth?" Harry asks while he traces his tongue by Louis's shoulder and ends up sucking a bruise on it.

"Your cock," Louis says plainly. Usually, he loves when Harry blows him, but that time he's just so needy of his fiance fucking him.

"Louuuu," Harry whispers and leans back, resting the weight of his body on his right arm. Harry is the most beautiful human being Louis has ever seen. His eyes are always shining, and he got that childish air... _He is a princess_.

"Please?"

"Let me do something with this body of yours," he says and his hand glides by Louis’s body. Harry puts open mouth kisses all over Louis’s torso, and Louis feels as if a flame burns that bit of skin that was kissed by his boyfriend.

Harry slowly guides him, making him turn around.

"I swear to God, Louis, your body—," he says and his hands grab Louis’s cheeks possessively. "Love to see you like this."

Louis is about to say something, but then a word gets stuck on his mind. He can’t stop it; he wants to say it, and he needs to say it.

Harry is kissing his tights now and squeezing Louis’s hips, and as soon as Harry starts rimming Louis, his mind turns completely blank and he can’t think about anything except Harry.

And the word slides out his mouth.

"Fuck, princess," he moans while Harry curls his tongue inside him.

The reaction is instant. Harry grips Louis’ ass cheeks and shoves harder his tongue inside. Louis screams, he screams like a fucking animal, his mind lost in the pleasure.

"Louis," Harry huffs after leaning back, placing his body on top of him. His words sound like a begging; a begging for Louis doesn't really know what.

Or maybe yes.

"Please, please," Louis whimpers, so open and vulnerable to Harry.

Harry kisses Louis’ body, feeling how hot and sweaty it is, the way his muscles are tense, his body tensed in that special way only Harry makes him feel.

The only thing he needs is his boyfriend to be rough and fuck him. His body aches with a need for pleasure, for Harry to fill him, his cock hard and throbbing, his mind dizzy.

Harry drives Louis insane, that's for sure.

"I love your back so much," Harry whispers and slides his finger by Louis’s back; they’re cold and soak, which means he just lubed his cock.

"Please, princess."

Louis feels Harry teasing him, sliding the tip of his hard dick by the ring muscle of his ass but not shoving in.

Louis needs to be fucked so hard that it's embarrassing, he needs Harry inside him, filling him.

"Come on, fuck me, Harry," he pleads, haltingly.

Harry leans down and puts kisses all along Louis’s spine. It’s nice and sweet, but Louis needs more than sweet.

"Louis," Harry says with his husky and manly voice, finally placing the tip of his dick in Louis’s hole. "My Louis."

He grabs Louis by his hips and shoves in violently, making Louis scream loudly. It feels so fucking good to have Harry finally inside him, even when it hurts; it’s the best damn feeling.

Harry doesn’t wait too much; he shoves in harder while Louis arches his back and opens his mouth to cry silently on pleasure. Harry quickly reaches a hand to Louis’s face, clutching it.

"Baby," Louis moans while Harry starts moving in and out with messy rhythm, little moans escaping his pretty mouth. "Baby, princess, love your big cock."

"I know. I love how tight you are," Harry gasps and his cock suddenly hits Louis’s prostate, which makes him beg out loud to do it again, to make him feel that, to give him more.

"Harry, fuck," Louis gasps and shoves up his ass, trying to make Harry’s cock hit his spot again. When he does, God, Louis swears his vision goes blurry, pins and needles running not only by his lower belly but his entire body.

Harry doesn't last any longer, he comes with a scream of Louis’s name, filling his boy like he has done so many times before. And even when he’s tired and exhausted, he falls on Louis and quickly grabs his dick, rubbing it faster and faster until Louis comes too, messing all the bed with his cum.

Louis’s body finally relaxes; his muscles feeling like jelly. His ass aches a little and it's flooded with Harry’s cum; oddly, he likes that sensation.

He likes everything regarding Harry, basically.

"Lou," Harry says after they recover their breathing and relax a bit. He’s spread on bed, his hair is a fucking mess, his face is sweaty. And just like a pretty princess, he still has his crown, "Happy now?"

"Always," Louis nods, intertwining their hands together. "But I'd have been happy either if we haven't had sex."

"But you turn grumpy."

"Oh, shut up and kiss me, idiot."

 

 

♡

 

 

Louis is now _obsessed._ He starts randomly getting mad at everyone, when the truth is that he's only mad with himself. First, for not having the guts to talk to Harry. Second, because knowing about his secret makes Louis feels bad.

"Quiet," Lou says while she styles Harry’s hair. "Stop, Styles, don’t move."

Harry, who’s sitting on a chair at his and Louis’ room, does a grumpy face but remains motionless.

Lux is running around the room, playing with a Spiderman doll from Louis. The boy freaked out when she first took it, but of course it was only needed a couple of kisses from Harry to convince him to let her play with the doll.

"This hair of yours is getting too long, Styles," Lou mutters. She’s trying to make Harry’s hair look more presentable, dealing with his curls, a brush and a hairdryer.

"Don’t want to cut it," Harry mutters. He’s idly staring at Louis, who’s reading a comic that Zayn has borrowed him, not really paying attention to the conversation.

"Why? Your man has a hair kink?"

"I just like when I can wear a ponytail."

Lou laughs out loud when Harry tells her about ponytails, and straight away Louis raises his eyes at her.

"What’s so funny?"

"You boyfriend over here says he likes to wear ponytails."

"So what?" Louis asks, despicably.

Lou arches an eyebrow and gives Louis a challenging glance. Meanwhile, Lux sits next to Harry and starts is murmuring and chatting with his doll.

"Tomlinson," Lou protests and Harry yells when she pulls a bit too hard from his hair.

"Heyyyyyyyy, be careful!"

"Sorry," Lou whispers and Louis turns frozen. "You’re such a girl, Styles."

Maybe it was innocent and normal, Lou is used to call Harry “girl” and she shouldn't be allowed to do it. Nobody can call Harry girl. Louis gets up and stands in the middle of the room with his arms crossed against his chest and his characteristic _bitch-I-fucking-hate-you_ face.

"Moooooom!" Lux says and raises her Spiderman in the air.

"Nice, really nice, Lux," Lou says even when she doesn’t glance at her daughter.

Louis walks towards her and snatches the doll from her hands. Lux opens her eyes widely and stares at Louis, really confused.

"Louis!" Harry protests, surprised by Louis’s reaction.

"Sorry, I was distracted," he says and, honestly, that's such a pathetic excuse.

Lou, with his hair supplies in both hands, looks at Louis completely baffled. Harry stands up quickly, trying to stop an argument from coming.

"Bug, don’t worry," Harry quickly says to Lux, kneeling down at his side. "You can paint my nails now, ok? It’s more fun than Spiderman!"

 _No_. Lux can’t paint Harry’s nails. Actually, everything feels completely wrong with the situation. Everyone is treating Harry like a girl and that shouldn't be happening, and Louis should have known what his boyfriend likes and he shouldn't be hopeless.

"Louise, can you please just— I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but can you go away?" he asks and he isn’t on the mood to receive a 'no' as an answer. Harry looks up to Louis, who’s trying to be nice to Lou.

"Whatever," she sighs, throwing his hair supplies on the desk. "Lux, c’mon. Uncle Louis is grumpy and wants to do some nasty things with Uncle Harry."

"Heyyyyy!" Harry says and covers Lux’s ears with his massive hands, the little girl giggles.

"As if she hadn't heard your screaming one night or two," Lou mutters while she puts everything inside her bag. "See you later, guys."

When Lou and Lux are gone, Harry comes back to the room to find Louis on bed, staring at the ceiling. He cuddles against him and nuzzles his face on his shoulder until Louis sighs and opens his arms, welcoming him.

Harry rests his head on his chest while Louis strokes his hair, making his boyfriend as happy as a kitten.

"What’s the matter, baby? You aren’t so mean towards Lou."

 _She called you girl. She can’t. I’m only allowed to do it,_ Louis thinks.

Louis gets really surprised about his possessiveness, sometimes. Yet he knows that this time it isn't only possessiveness. It's everything bigger and more complicated than that.

"Nothing, H," Louis sighs.

"You’re a really bad liar, Mister Tomlinson."

"It’s— you are beautiful, you know? Doesn't matter what you choose to wear."

Louis has a great talent to make things worse and more awkward easily, really. Things are already awkward enough.

"I’m—"

Silence. An uncomfortable, horrible silence. Harry looks down and Louis, in a rush of fear, places the tip of his finger underneath Harry’s chin, raising his face and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

"I love you," Louis mutters, tripping with his own tongue, kissing Harry again and again. He feels like he might cry. "Forgive me, forgive me, I love you."

"Lou," Harry giggles, cupping Louis’s face in his hands. "It’s okay. Anything else?"

"Kiss me, please?"

 

 

♡

 

 

Louis explodes. Because it all explodes eventually, and Louis isn't an exception.

It’s such an inmate moment: Harry is completely naked in their room, standing in front of the bed. Louis, for the very first time, isn’t paying attention to his body. He’s mesmerized by the softness of Harry’s expression, who's staring at the pretty tutu as if it was the best fucking thing in the world.

He sits on the edge of the bed and slides his hand by the fabric, maybe trying to sense how it feels like to wear it. His hair is wet, tiny drops of water soak his bare chest, tattoos visible. He’s smiling, maybe lost into his own thoughts, and as much as Louis wants to go away and let Harry be happy with his own stuff, he adores staring at his boyfriend.

“So,” Harry mutters to himself, biting his lower lip.

He turns to the mirror in the closet door and stands up, standing in front of it. Harry is damn fit, his body, his skin, his tattoos. If Louis wasn’t too focused on fonding over his boyfriend, he’d have noticed that he was getting hard. But the moment… The moment isn’t sexy. It isn’t hot. The moment is pure sweetness and innocence.

Harry walks towards the bed and grabs the pink tutu. He quickly puts it on and turns to the mirror. It’s honestly so fucking weird, a lanky boy all covered with tattoos, wearing a ruffled and pink tutu. But Louis finds him cute, and shit, if that isn’t proof enough of how much in love he is with his boy, well, Louis doesn’t know what a proof is.

Harry stares at his reflection in the mirror and smiles happily, giggling at his own image. He licks his lips, making a happy smile, and tilts his head to one side. Louis is dying on the need to walk towards him, hug him from behind and just tell him how beautiful he is. How lovely and pretty he looks.

Harry’s phone starts ringing, breaking his magic bubble. Even when Harry is upset about it, he isn’t as upset as Louis.

Fuck whoever ruined the moment.

Harry takes the phone and as soon as he checks who the caller is, he quickly takes off his tutu, as if the caller could see him wearing it and throws it on the floor.

“Zayn, mate.”

Zayn. Fucking Zayn. Louis loves his best mate really much, but he has interrupted the moment. And there’s something about Zayn that makes Harry nervous, Louis notices it. Its like the boy is trying to prove his friend that he’s manly and strong and he wasn’t wearing any tutu moments ago.

That proves Louis how insecure Harry can be.

“Yeah. Nah, he’s upstairs,” he says and Louis knows they’re talking about him. “What? No, not even crazy. Sure. Tomorrow?” he waits until Zayn replies something that Louis can’t hear. “Heeeeey, Malik, stop stealing my boyfriend! I need Louis to sleep well, you know?”

Louis finally decides that it's the proper moment to make his presence noticed. He opens the door and Harry pokes his head up, smiling at him when he walks in.

“He’s here, do you want—?” Harry shushes up when Louis shakes his head. No, he isn’t in the mood to talk with Zayn, he just wants to hug his boy and kiss his body and make him feel loved. “Ok, Zayn, talk you later,” he says and hangs up. Once he’s done, he throws the phone on bed and opens his arms in an open invitation for Louis to cuddle on his lap.

“You’re naked” Louis points out, and Harry winks at him.

“It was never a problem, love.”

“No, not really,” he replies and falls on his boyfriend’s arm. It still makes him go crazy to find again how well they fit onto each other. They did it when they were younger and they still fit perfectly now that their bodies are bigger. Well, not Louis', Harry is the one who grew enormous. “But you need to do something about it, you know?”

Harry smirks at him and bites Louis’ lower lip softly, after kissing him on the edge of his mouth.

“Yeah? Like… doing some things in your pretty tight hole?”

Louis opens his legs and settles better on Harry’s lap, the boy grabs him by the hips and helps him to be comfortable.

“Maybe,” Louis moans while Harry puts open mouth kisses all over his neck. “Yeah, like that, princess. I love you.”

Harry suddenly stops kissing Louis and stares at him. Louis opens his eyes, upset about the sudden stop, and then sees in Harry’s eyes. They’re unemotional, they say nothing. But at the same time, they’re saying everything.

“What’s in your mind lately, Louis?”

“Why?” Louis replies, maybe too defensive and sharp. He knows what’s coming, he fucking knows it and he’s panicking about it. No, no, he shouldn’t have called Harry princess. He stepped into personal and private place; he messed up with Harry’s little secret, and now he needs to be honest because Louis can’t lie to Harry, he just can’t, as much as he tries.

“You have been calling me princess a lot, lately.”

“Does it bother you?”

Harry flushes like a five years old boy, his cheeks turning red as a cherry. His face remains inexpressive, but his green eyes shine on something that Louis senses its fear.

“Not— I don’t know,” he whispers, and then looks down, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, I mean— I’m a boy.”

“So what?” he asks, annoying. He doesn’t want Harry to think those shits. He doesn't want Harry to be ashamed of the things he likes. He wants Harry to be happy. “You’re my pretty princess. Boy, dick, balls and all.”

“You’re nasty” Harry mutters, burying his face on the crook of Louis’ neck. The older boy rests a hand on Harry’s head, caressing his soft hair.

“Babe… we need to talk, you know?”

Harry shakes his head; face pressed against Louis’ skin and kisses him sweetly before shaking his head again.

“No, we don’t.”

“Hey, Harold, what’s happening?” Louis wonders. He grabs Harry by his face and forces him to move until he face him. His eyes are wet and he’s clearly scared as a little boy. “Don’t be scared, princess. I love you.”

“Stop calling me princess,” Harry begs, sounding wrecked.

“Why? You like it.”

“But—” he sighs and then his eyes look at everywhere but Louis.' “Louis, you don’t want a princess.”

“I want you,” Louis insists, not sure about how to cope with that delicate situation, “so if you’re a princess, then I want a princess.”

Harry is slowly opening up with him, slowly showing what he hides inside. It makes him really proud but scared at the same time; because he wants to make Harry feel loved and secure and he isn’t sure about what he has to do to make it better.

“Louis, stop. Stop it, please.”

“Harry, you stop! I don’t understand what’s happening to you,” Louis stutters, honestly concerned. He stands up and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling him in order to make him stand up too but Harry refuses to do it. “Babe, I want you to be you, I want you to be honest with me. I don’t care if you wear lipstick, I don’t care if you like to wear tutus. Harry, I love everything you are, even if some days you just want to be a pretty little princess.”

Louis’s words weren’t made to hurt Harry, but somehow they do. He just babbles about everything he knew, but he was supposed to not knew, exposing Harry’s most delicate side.

“How do you know it?” Harry asks. He wraps a blanket around his waist, which is an indicator of his anger towards Louis. It’s like putting a barrier between them, marking his space. It's stopping Louis from watching him. It hurts Louis so much. “How? You hate me? Do you want to dump me? Dump me. I’m a fucking loser and I know it, Louis, you don’t need to laugh on my face.”

“Harry, babe—”

“You were calling me princess to mock me, right?” Harry says and his voice sounds drowned; God, he’s holding back the tears. Louis is standing in the middle of the room, and if he usually feels tiny when Harry is in front of him, at that moment he feels tinier than ever. Everything looks extremely big and wide, and Harry seems to be so big. “You called me princess to see if that turns me on. Yes, Louis, it fucking turns me on when you call me like that. I wank over the thought of you screaming my name and calling me princess. But that’s none of your business, because it’s a side of me that you’ll probably hate.”

“Harry!” Louis yells but Harry is already walking away. “Harry, wait, love, I’m not mocking you! Harry I love—”

Harry takes his clothes and his coat, probably to put them on while he's on the elevator, and runs away. Louis tries to catch him, but Harry is faster, getting into the elevator before Louis can do anything. He keeps screaming his name, but he knows it’s useless. Once Louis reaches the lobby, Harry is already gone.

It’s all Louis’ damn fault.

 

 

♡

 

 

Louis can't sleep. He can't fucking sleep, his mind is worried about his baby. How on earth is he supposed to sleep is Harry is out there, mad and upset?

His baby is hurting and, honestly, Louis doesn't blame him. He can't blame him, not when the one who fucked everything up was Louis.

Blame is on Louis.

He's sitting in their empty and silent kitchen, stirring his tea with a spoon absentmindedly, not actually paying attention to it. The soft smoke of the hot tea rises on the air to finally fade away.

"Louis?"

Louis jumps when he hears Harry's voice filling the kitchen. He turns to the door so quickly that his neck hurts, but he can't care now.

"Sunshine," he whispers.

Harry has his hair tied in a ridiculous ponytail and he is wearing one of Louis's sweaters, which is a bit small for him. His eyes are inflated and drenched, and his pretty lips really reddish.

"Can...?" He mutters, a bit ashamed. "Can we talk?"

"Sure, love. Come here," he invites and Harry reluctantly walks towards him.

Louis stands up and prepares a cup of tea for his lover while Harry sits on the table, silent. His eyes are locked on his fingers, playing with his engagement ring, the one Louis gave to him months ago (one of the many).

"Here you have, babe," Louis says, offering Harry his tea. The young boy smiles shyly at him and grabs the cup.

Louis isn't sure if he has permission to touch Harry, but after a moment of feeling his skin burning with the hurry to feel his boyfriend, he grabs his free hand and links their fingers.

Harry glances at him and his cheeks turn red; he sips his tea, avoiding the chance to say anything.

"Hey, Harold. Still thinking that I want to break up with you?"

Harry doesn't reply. He finishes his tea fairly quickly and then gets nervous because he hasn't have anything else to distract him from his fears.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Louis asks softly and kisses Harry's cheek. "I found your lipstick and then I saw you the day you wore the tutu" he explains and Harry looks utterly embarrassed. "Don't be ashamed, baby. I love you. I love this side of you."

"I— I’m so sorry Lou,” Harry sobs and suddenly Louis realizes that he’s crying. He quickly wraps Harry in his arms, pulling him closer, and it doesn't matter that he grew bigger lately, Louis knows how tiny and small his boyfriend feels right now. “I didn’t—” he hip cups, grabbing Louis’ arm strongly, as if his life depended of it, “I didn't mean to upset you.”

“Harry, for God’s sake,” Louis says sweetly, kissing Harry’s tears away. “You never, in a million of years, upset me.”

“I don't want to be a girl, you know?" Harry whispers quietly. "I'm actually happy being a man. But— There— Some things."

"You like some girly things," Louis finishes for him, knowing already what Harry thinks. "It's fine. It’s completely fine. We all agree that you're a bit princessy, babe. Even your mom says it. We know that you like girly stuff, why are you ashamed?" He wonders, playing with the loose curls behind his ear. "Hum?"

"They say I'm girly because I like— flowers and cupcakes and stuff," he says and he sounds like a heartbroken boy, lost without a clue of what to do next. "But they don't know I like— I like to wear lipstick."

"They don't need to know it," Louis assures. Harry finally, finally raises his eyes at him, hopeless. "Actually, nobody has to know it. It's your own thing, your little secret. But me— Harry, why did you choose not to tell me? We don't have secrets, pretty."

Harry's eyes grow wet while Louis talks, nibbling his lower lip nervously.

"I thought you'd hate me," he stutters, and a single tear falls down his cheek, Louis kisses it better. "I thought you hated the idea of a man wearing— Stuff."

"I don't hate it. I don't like it on me, but you— Harry, you can wear a pair of zebra jeans, a corset and a pirate hat and I'll love you like I did when you were younger and wore baggy jeans," he explains, sincerely. "I fell in love with who you are, Harold. Of course, your fit body and your dick are like... a great plus," he says teasingly and Harry giggles at the joke, which warms Louis's heart.

"You don't mind if I use a bit of lipstick sometimes? If I like to paint my nails? If I like to wear— pink and glittering stuff?"

"You own a pair of glittering boots and you actually wore them, twat," Louis remembers, wondering why the hell Harry liked those boots. "Of course I don't mind. If you feel like a princess— Then be a princess. My princess."

Harry nods in agreement and finally smiles at Louis. He gets closer to him and the younger boy cups Louis' face in his hands, kissing him.

"I love you. Thank you, Lou."

"Never thank me for doing what is right. Thanks to you for trusting me."

"Always," Harry nods and rests his forehead against Louis's. "Hey... Can you keep calling me princess? Like, regularly? I like it."

Louis chuckles fondly, biting his lower lip, actually wondering how Harry can be so cute. He's so fucking in love with him, even after after four years.

"I'd love to," Louis nods and presses a light kiss to Harry's pinky lips, "princess."

Someday, someone asks Louis what's a princess for him. Louis answers, of course, Harry Styles.


End file.
